Sometimes Big Brothers Are Stupid
by cindy123
Summary: Three Brothers! It is never a good idea to hide an injury, especially if you are the big brother. Hurt Sam, because how can I write a Supernatural story without hurting Sam in some way? Hurt Danny. Worried Dean and a worried and pissed off daddy John.
1. Chapter 1

**Well, look at me! I'm posting a new Three Brothers story! I was beginning to wonder if this would ever happen...as I know some of you have been wondering as well. So...a long time ago a reader asked me if someday I could do a Danny hides an injury story...I'm sorry, but I can't remember who the reader was, but I never forgot the request...and I have thought about it and thought about it and thought about it and finally had a story pop into my head. This will be a short story...two, maybe three chapters. There is hurt Sammy, because well, come on, it's me and I can't write a Supernatural story without hurting Sam, even a little bit. Secretively hurt Danny (because sometimes big brothers are stupid)...worried brother Dean and worried/mad daddy John. So, without further ado...here you go!**

Daniel 19 years old

Dean 18 years old

Sam 14 Years old

 **Sometimes Big Brothers are Stupid**

"Stay awake, Sammy…don't close your eyes on me," Daniel pleaded as he leaned over his kid brother, brown eyes filled with worry and fear. He held Sam's hand in his, rubbing it, firmly, yet gently to keep the boy grounded, and most importantly, awake.

The entire right side of Sam's face was coated with blood, the red, sticky fluid hiding the blossoming bruises that were forming from the teen's unexpected collision with a nearby tree. His disheveled hair was also matted with blood from the deep split in the large lump that arose just above his temple. His eyes were mere slits as he looked up at his brother and he frowned weakly when he thought he saw tears spilling from the older teen's eyes.

"'s okay, Danny…'m okay," Sam whispered, the boy willfully opening his eyes further to prove to his brother that he was fine.

Daniel smiled fondly down at his brother and nodded his head. "I know, squirt…you're fine, but just humor me and keep those eyes open, okay? Dad and Dean will find us soon, then we can all get out of these God forsaken woods," he said, his gaze shifting from his brother to the smoldering body of the wendigo some fifteen feet away. How Sam had managed to shoot off his flare after being knocked senseless by the creature was beyond Daniel, but he was more than grateful to his little brother because if Sam hadn't gotten off that shot, Daniel would in all likelihood be wendigo food by now.

Daniel returned his gaze to his brother to find the boy still awake, albeit barely. He renewed his efforts of rubbing Sam's hand to keep him awake while he looked around, hoping to see his father and brother come charging through the trees at any moment. The group had split up two hours ago in hopes of bettering their chances of finding the murderous monster, but now all Daniel wanted was to see his other family members so they could get Sam the help that he so obviously needed. After five more minutes of waiting, Daniel was ready to lift his brother up and carry him through the woods back to the car so he could get him to a hospital. His father and brother would just have to wait for him to come back for them. Just as he started to stand, he heard the sound of someone, or something, crashing through the trees. He moved around Sam, placing himself between the barely conscious teen and the trees where the crashing was coming from, then he readied his own flare on the off chance that there was more than one wendigo in the forest. He blew out a relieved breath when his father and brother broke through the treeline, their weapons drawn and matching looks of terror on their faces. They took one look at Daniel, then Sam, and both Winchesters were running at full speed toward them.

Dean immediately dropped down next to Sam while John stopped first in front of Daniel, his dark eyes taking in his eldest son's pale face and the tear tracks on his cheeks. "I'm fine, Dad...it's Sammy who needs help," Daniel said, the young man turning to look down at his younger brothers. He smiled slightly as he watched Dean fussing over their youngest. John nodded then moved around Daniel to ease down on Sam's other side. He checked his son over, noting the lump and cut on his head and coming to the obvious conclusion that the boy was suffering from a concussion. Also of note was the shredded left sleeve of his jacket. Small amounts of blood stained the sliced material and upon further inspection, shallow claw marks were found on Sam's bicep.

"These aren't too deep," John said, mostly to himself. "May not even require stitches."

Sam looked up at his father upon hearing his voice, his eyes wide, but noticeably out of focus. John smiled as he took his youngest's hand. "Hey, kiddo…looks like you took quite the spill," John said softly said. "We're going to get you out of here, okay?" he added.

"'k," Sam breathed out. "'m sorry, Dad," he said as his father prepared to lift him from the ground.

"Hey…don't you apologize for anything, Sammy. If it weren't for you, I'd be toast. You did good," Daniel said as he knelt to help his father and brother lift the youngest Winchester. Sam gave his brother a weak grin, before groaning in pain as he was carefully lifted from the ground.

Once Sam was safely in John's arms, Dean moved over to the still smoldering wendigo and kicked it lightly with the toe of his boot. He glanced over at his family as Daniel gathered he and Sam's packs. "So, what happened here?" he asked as he moved back toward his family.

Daniel shrugged the packs onto his shoulders and looked at his brother. "We had stopped here and were listening when all of the sudden the wendigo burst through the trees. Before I even knew what was happening, Sammy was flying through the air. He hit the tree and then the bastard was on me. I really thought I was a goner, but then I heard this woosh and the wendigo lit up. It dropped me and…and the sound it made. I don't know, but…somehow Sammy shot it with his flare. I don't know how he did it…he hit that tree hard…but he did it. He saved me," Daniel explained, his eyes moving down to his little brother's face. He frowned when he saw Sam's eyes closed, his mouth slightly ajar.

John followed Daniel's gaze and found that his youngest had slipped into unconsciousness. He leant his ear down to Sam's face then looked up at the expectant gazes of Dean and Daniel. "His breathing is fine. He's just worn out. Let's get him back to the hotel so I can clean up his head and his arm. He'll need stitches in…"

"Whoa, wait, Dad…we're not taking him to the hospital?" Daniel cried.

John started moving toward the trees, his two older sons falling in beside him. "He doesn't need a hospital, Danny. He just needs to be cleaned up and stitched. His concussion isn't that bad," he replied.

"But, Dad…he's unconscious," Dean said, his green eyes filled with worry.

"He's sleeping," John snapped as he hurried through the forest. "Look, boys…I get that you're worried, I'm worried too, but I've seen enough concussions to know that this is a mild one. I would really rather not have to explain his injuries…to the doctors or the police," he explained.

"But…" Daniel started, only to be cut off with one quick glance from his father.

"If his condition worsens, then we will take him to the hospital, but I really believe that he is just exhausted more than anything. You said it yourself, Danny. He didn't lose consciousness when he hit the tree. He had enough wits about him to aim his flare and shoot the wendigo and he was awake when we got to you two. I'll get him cleaned and stitched and I'll keep a very close eye on him. He'll be fine, I promise," John said. He gave his son a slight grin before picking up his pace. Within twenty minutes they broke through the trees and came to the road that they had driven in on. John turned to his right and followed the road until ten more minutes had passed and they came to the pull out where they had parked the impala. He hurried to the car, Dean right on his tail, and leaned up against the black car with a tired sigh, Sam still held tightly, yet gently, in his arms. He frowned slightly as he watched Daniel slowly make his way toward them while Dean dug in his jacket pocket for the keys. The middle brother was unlocking the doors as Daniel finally made it to where John stood.

"You alright, Danny?" John asked as he shifted his youngest son in his arms and eyed his eldest son's pale face critically.

Daniel pulled up at the back of the car and rested one hand on the trunk lid as he leaned forward, his breaths coming in harsh pants. He looked up at his father and nodded. "I'm fine, Dad…just worn out from everything. Let's get Sammy back to the motel so you can take a better look at him," he said before pushing up from the car and watching as his father nodded slightly then moved around the car to carefully guide Sam into the backseat and Dean's open arms. Daniel took the moment to discreetly pull his jacket open and look down at his stomach. He took in a deep breath to calm his breathing then wrapped the jacket protectively around himself before rushing to climb into the front passenger seat at his father's impatient call. He sighed when he pulled the door shut and eased back into the seat. He closed his eyes as he rested his head back and smiled lightly when he heard the engine roar to life. He was awakened some time later when John patted his arm and indicated that they were at the motel. He slowly folded himself out of the seat and stood shakily beside the car as John came around the back of the car and eased Sam, who had awakened at some point, from the back seat. He watched in a fog as Dean piled out and the three Winchesters moved to their room door.

"Danny! Hurry up…you have the key!" Dean called, his green eyes narrowing as he watched his older brother stumble slightly as he moved forward to unlock the door.

A moan from Sam distracted Dean from his older brother and his worry was all but forgotten as they rushed into the room, John carefully depositing Sam on the bed and barking orders before the door was even shut. Dean began to help John undress Sam while Daniel was trusted to gather the first aid kit, wash cloths and water from the bathroom. As Daniel hurried to gather all that was needed, John moved to look in Sam's eyes, the tired man whispering to his son as he moved his attention to the wound on his head as Dean pulled the boots from Sam's feet.

"Just as I thought…he has just a slight concussion. A few stitches will close the cut on his head then I can get his arm cleaned up and see what needs to be done there," John said as he reached for the water and wash cloths that Daniel had set on the nightstand. "Danny, grab me a chair from the table…this old back can't take this leaning over the edge of the bed crap," John instructed, his eyes remaining on his youngest's face as he cleaned the dirt and blood away while Dean sat on the other side of the bed holding Sam's hand in his own. When no chair appeared, both John and Dean looked up to find Daniel standing at the end of the bed, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Danny?" Dean queried as he slowly stood up and took a step toward his brother. "What's wrong?"

Daniel slowly moved his gaze to his brother and opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could escape, his eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped forward, Dean's quick actions and strong arms the only thing keeping the eldest Winchester sibling from hitting the floor. "Danny! What the hell!" Dean cried as he gently eased his brother to the carpet. "Dad! What's wrong with him!?"

John put the wet cloth down and hurried to where his sons were huddled on the floor, Daniel's head pillowed on Dean's lap. He dropped to the floor and immediately placed his fingers at Daniel's neck, a relieved sigh escaping when a strong, steady pulse was felt. He glanced up when he heard movement from the bed and found that Sam was trying to rise to see what was happening, a look of worry on his bruised face.

"Sam, lie back down," John barked before turning back to Daniel.

"But, Dad…"

"Lie back down! I won't have two sons sprawled on the floor!"

Sam bit back a reply and eased back down onto the bed, though he turned so he could somewhat see what was happening. John nodded then began his examination of his oldest son. There was no bump on his head so a concussion was ruled out. As John moved down his body, he pulled Daniel's jacket open and sucked in a startled breath. Blood soaked the young man's sweater and undershirt, as well as the front of his dark jeans. When John pulled up the shirts he nearly cried out in dismay. Dean, on the other hand, couldn't contain his shock.

"Oh my God!" the middle brother cried. "Danny…"

 **Danny, Danny, Danny...you are the big brother, you're supposed to be smarter than this. What has the eldest brother gotten himself into? Hmmm...check back in to find out. And please, if you could be so kind, leave me a comment to let me know how I'm doing. Or to give me a good tongue lashing for taking so long to get back to our brothers! Take care and thanks for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, first of all...wow! You guys rock! I honestly didn't know what to expect when I posted chapter 1. It thought it had been too long since the last Three Brothers story for this to get much attention, but you all proved me wrong. It makes my heart happy to know that you still love Danny :) I love him too, just as I love Dean and Sammy. I also want to apologize that I haven't responded personally to your reviews, but know that I am so very thankful for every review, follow and favorite. Makes me so happy!**

 **Now, I know I left you all on a bit of a cliffy so I won't ramble on anymore. Hope you enjoy this next chapter :D**

 **Chapter 2**

" _Oh my God!" Dean cried. "Danny…"_

"What's wrong!? Is Danny okay?" Sam called from the bed, the tone of Dean's voice striking fear into his heart. His stomach knotted at the thought that his beloved older brother could be badly hurt because he wasn't fast enough in shooting the wendigo.

"Shhh, Sammy…it's okay," John said as he prodded at the claw marks to Daniel's side.

"'m sorry, but…"

John looked up and met his youngest son's eyes. "No need for that, kiddo. Don't worry about Danny…he'll be fine. He just has an injury that he didn't tell us about," he said, a hint of anger in his voice.

Sam nodded slowly as he dropped his gaze. "I was too slow," he whispered forlornly.

"What do you mean you were too slow?" Dean asked, his attention and worry split between his older and younger brother.

"I-I should have shot it quicker. Danny wouldn't be hurt if I had shot quicker," Sam answered with a tremble in his voice.

"Hey…don't do that, Sam," Dean said. "It's amazing that you were able to shoot it at all after what happened. You saved Danny's life."

"But…"

"No buts, Sam. You did good…you couldn't have stopped this from happening. Danny will be sore for awhile and he'll have a pretty good scar, but because of you he is still alive," John said as he slid his arms beneath his son's knees and shoulders. "Dean, help me get him on the other bed," he added as he looked up at his middle son.

Together the two lifted the unconscious young man and gently laid him on the second bed in the room. Sam watched helplessly from where he lay, his eyes taking in the blood that stained Daniel's shirt. He squeezed his eyes shut when a wave of dizziness washed over him. He startled when he felt a hand on his arm and he slowly opened his eyes to see Dean staring down at him with concern.

"Hey, kiddo. Don't scare me like that, okay?" Dean said with a grin.

"'m dizzy," Sam murmured as his vision swam before him.

"I know, Sammy. We'll get you fixed right up."

John tore his eyes away from Daniel's stomach long enough to take in Sam's pale complexion and obvious discomfort. "Dean, get his head cleaned up and bandage it as tight as you can to staunch the bleeding until I can get it stitched, then take a look at his arm. I need to get Danny cleaned up so I can see how bad these tears are," he commanded before turning back to his eldest son.

"Shouldn't we get him to the hospital, Dad? It looks like he's lost a lot of blood," Dean asked nervously, his hand still resting comfortingly on Sam's arm.

"His pulse was strong and steady so I don't think the blood loss is at a dangerous level, but that could change if I don't get him sewn up," John answered as he began to remove Daniels jacket. Once the jacket was off, John took his knife and cut the bloodied shirts away, leaving Daniels torso exposed so he could see how much damage there truly was.

Dean watched his father for a moment then turned his attention to Sam. He smiled fondly when he saw that the teenager had his gaze locked on Daniel. He gently turned Sam's head until their eyes met. Sam smiled weakly, though his eyes still held worry and guilt. Dean brushed the hair from Sam's eyes then reached for a wet cloth to begin the process of cleaning the teenager up. "Danny will be fine, Sammy…he's in really good hands," he comforted as he carefully cleaned the blood from Sam's face. He mumbled an apology every time Sam hissed when he hit the cut on his head and once he was finished, he placed a thick wad of gauze over the cut then wrapped Sam's head tightly with bandages. Once he was finished with that, he gently eased Sam out of his jacket and over shirt where he found three painful looking, but thankfully shallow cuts to his forearm. He smiled up at Sam and patted his shoulder. "These won't even need stitches, kiddo," he said with a relieved smile, knowing that Sam would go through enough pain when his head wound was stitched. He cleaned and disinfected the cuts then bandaged Sam's arm. Once that was done, he hurried to the bathroom and filled a cup with water then brought it back out and set it on the nightstand. Next, he palmed two extra strength Tylenol tablets and handed them to Sam. He helped the teen to sit up then handed him the water once Sam had plopped the tablets into his mouth. He eased Sam down onto the pillows then pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Rest, Sammy. Dad will get to your head once he's done with Danny," Dean said, smiling when Sam closed his eyes without protest. "You must be really tired, kiddo," he added softly.

Dean moved over to the other bed to offer his help to his father, his breath catching in this throat when he saw the extent of the damage. He looked up at John, who had never skipped a beat when his son arrived. "Dad?" he asked softly, worry nearly stealing his voice.

John looked up and sighed. "The claw marks are pretty deep, but not as deep as I first thought. Once I finish stitching him and the blood loss stops completely, he'll start improving," he said as he went back to sewing up his son's side. "How's Sam?" he asked with another quick glance at his middle son.

"Sleeping. Poor kid is exhausted…and still feeling guilty, but he's going to be okay. His arm won't need any stitches, but his head will need a few at least," Dean answered as he looked over to the sleeping teen on the other bed.

John nodded as he tied off another stitch then glanced over his shoulder at Sam. "He's a tough kid. How he managed to get off a perfect shot after getting knocked senseless is beyond me," he said with a slight grin.

"Better be careful there, Dad…one may think you're proud or something," Dean teased, though part of him was truly surprised at the pride in John's voice. His father rarely showed pride in any of them, and with Sam it was even rarer. The two of them had been at odds lately, Sam's blossoming desire for independence and a more 'normal' life, as he called it, grating on John's nerves. Sam's turn toward rebellion had shocked them all, but each one of them had silently come to the same conclusion…that Sam would eventually grow out of it and fall in line. They were certain that he would come to embrace hunting like they all did and that would be the end of his desire for a normal life. Normal lives were boring afterall.

John grinned at his middle son, but inside he felt a slight pang of guilt. He was proud of all of his sons, though Sam's recent behavioral swing had put a chink in the chain. He found it hard to find a reason to be proud of his youngest, even when the teenager did something worth being proud about. The newly adopted habit of questioning every little decision John made, the calls for a more normal life outside of hunting were all working to drive a wedge between father and son, but then there were times like tonight when Sam showed just how great of a hunter he could be if he forgot about all of that and put as much energy into training as he did into his desire for normalcy. John sighed as he took another look at his sleeping boy then went back to stitching up the other one. He loved his boys so much and hated that it always seemed to shock them when he showed his pride in them. He'd have to work on that, but for now he had a job to do.

They worked silently together, John stitching and Dean wiping up any blood that still trickled from Daniel's wound while intermittingly checking on Sam to make sure that he was doing okay. Though he only had a slight concussion, any head trauma was a cause for concern and they didn't want any surprises to occur while they worked on Daniel. Finally, the wounds were all stitched and the fact that Daniel hadn't awoken during any of it was a sign that he was just as exhausted, if not more so, than Sam had been. Once Daniel was bandaged up and tucked under the covers, John stood and stretched his tight and aching muscles then moved to the small refrigerator in the kitchenette and pulled out not one, but two bottles of beer. Dean lifted an eyebrow when John handed one of the bottles to him, but didn't say a word as he popped the cap off.

"You earned this…you were a big help tonight," John said in answer to his questioning look as he took a seat at the small table. "We'll rest for a few and then we'll take care of Sam's head."

Dean nodded and took a swig then joined his father at the table. He breathed out a deep breath and glanced over at his brothers. "Man, Dad…we could've lost them both tonight. We shouldn't have split up."

John looked at his son and sighed. "I know it's not ideal, but we had to split up. That bastard needed to be taken care of and splitting up was the best way of making sure that happened…and it worked," the tired man said.

"Yeah, it did, but now both Sam and Danny are down for the count. Sammy should have stayed with you and I should have been with Danny…like you always have it," Dean countered.

"So, you think you could have done a better job than Sammy?" John asked with a raised eyebrow. "The kid got off a perfect shot after he'd been thrown into a tree head first."

"No, I'm not saying that. He did good…real good. I'm just saying he shouldn't have been there in the first place, Dad," Dean argued.

"So you don't think Danny could take care of him as well as me?" John asked with a tilt of his head. "I'm trying to understand what you're saying here, kid."

"No! Of course that's not what I meant either!" Dean snapped, his green eyes flashing with anger. "I'm just saying…"

"I know what you're trying to say, Dean, but did you ever consider that it could have just as easily come after you and I? If Sam had been with me instead of you and it had attacked us instead, Sam could have still been hurt. He wasn't hurt because he was with the wrong person, he was hurt because that's what happens sometimes with this job," John explained. He looked at the miserable look on his son's face and smiled. "I know you want to protect him from everything, Dean…I do too, and so does Danny, and I wish there was a way to make that happen, but shy of making him live with Bobby or Jim, I don't see any other way, and I'm not going to leave him with them…he belongs with us. He's safest with us."

Dean sighed and looked over at his baby brother before returning his gaze to his father. "I know, Dad. It's just hard to see him hurt. I mean, it's hard to see any of you hurt, but with Sammy…he's still innocent, you know? Even after all the crap he's seen, he's still innocent. He still believes he can have a normal life. I don't want him to lose that, Dad…not yet at least. As crazy as he makes us all with it, it means he still has hope and I want that for him for as long as he can hold onto it," the young man said with a slight tremor in his voice.

John watched his son for a few moments, then nodded. "I know, Dean. His hope kind of gives me hope in a way, and like you said, as much as he drives me crazy, I don't want him to lose that either...but then I look at our lives and I know he has to…as much as it pains me, I know that he has to lose that hope for normal, and his innocence along with it. It's just the way it has to be," he said sadly. The two sat for a few more minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, before John finally pushed to his feet. "Come on, we need to get Sam's head stitched, then you can lay down and get some rest."

Dean nodded and rose to his feet. They moved to Sam's bed, John moving turning the chair away from Daniel's bed to Sam's before sitting. Dean sat on the bed on the opposite side of John and watched as the eldest Winchester carefully removed the bandage from around Sam's head.

"So, Dad…why did you send Sam with Danny? You always keep him with you…why not this time?" Dean asked, the curiosity finally becoming too much for him.

John looked up and let out a long breath. "Truthfully?" he asked.

"Yeah…truthfully," Dean replied.

John nodded slightly and dropped his eyes. "He had hit my last nerve with all of his begging to join the soccer team at school. I'd had it and I was afraid if he stayed with me I would lose it. I-I hate myself for it, but I really just couldn't stand to have him around me so I sent him with Danny," he stated, his voice thick with guilt.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, anger flaring in him, but a tired, sad voice beat him to it.

"Y-You don't want me with you, Dad?"

The two hunters looked over to see two hazel eyes, brimming with unshed tears, staring widely up at them and John's heart dropped into his stomach at the hurt he saw in their expressive depths…a hurt that had nothing to do with any physical injuries.

 **Oh, John...not good, Mr. Winchester, not good at all. I hope you liked this chapter. I'll start working on the next and I'll get it posted as quickly as I can, but work is crazy so I'll just have to steal as much time here and there as I can. Take care all, and thanks for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, I started this chapter a few weeks ago and then I went on vacation last week. Since I write when I'm at work, on my breaks and when I have down time, I had planned to email what I had done to my home email address and finish this last week, but being the forgetful old fogey that I am, I forgot to send it and so could not work on it until I returned to work today. I am terribly sorry for making you wait so long for the update! I hope you can forgive me. Anyway, first I would like to thank everyone for the reviews. You all are so awesome! I'm so happy that you still love Danny and want to see more of him. Makes me smile :) Second, thanks for all of the favorites and follows. I'm blown away by you all! I promise I won't make you wait so long for the next chapter. Now, I'll let you get on with the story :)**

 **Cindy**

 **Chapter 3**

" _Y-You don't want me with you, Dad?"_

 _The two hunters looked over to see two hazel eyes, brimming with unshed tears staring widely up at them and John's heart dropped into his stomach at the hurt he saw in their expressive depths…a hurt that had nothing to do with his injuries_.

"Sammy…I…"

"'m sorry. I wasn't supposed to hear that I guess," Sam whispered dejectedly as he dropped his eyes to stare at his fingers as they fiddled nervously with the blanket that covered him.

John sighed and reached out to gently grasp Sam's arm. "Kiddo…what you heard…I'm sorry, I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I…"

Sam jerked his gaze up to his father, a look of anger crossing his pale face. "You said you couldn't stand to have me around you, that's why you sent me with Danny. How else was it supposed to sound?" he snapped as he yanked his arm away from his father.

"Sam…don't start," John said, a bit of anger sharpening his tone. "I didn't mean that I never wanted you around me. Just tonight…I didn't want to be distracted. The fighting about the soccer team had…I was pissed off and…and I didn't want that to be a factor in this hunt, so I sent you with Danny…to keep you safe," he explained as he held Sam's gaze.

Sam bit his lip as he thought about what his father had said. He sighed before he replied. "Safe from the wendigo? Or safe from you?" he asked meekly, all anger leaving him at the possibility that his father could be so angry with him that he was afraid he could cause him physical harm.

John flinched at the question. He flicked his eyes up to catch Dean's shocked face then looked back down at his youngest. "What?" he asked. "Do you really think that I could hurt you, Sam? Do you?" he cried softly, his heart breaking a little at the thought that his baby could think such a thing.

Sam shrugged as he dropped his eyes to once again stare at his hands. "You told Dean that you would lose it if I was with you. How should I take that, Dad?" he responded softly.

John dropped his head and sucked in a deep breath. He let the breath out slowly before he spoke. "I could never hurt you, Sam. I'm sorry if it sounded like that. I only meant that I may lose my cool and that would not do well when hunting a wendigo…or anything for that matter."

Sam looked up and waited for John to look his way. When he did, Sam gave him a sad smile and shook his head. "I wouldn't bring up the soccer team on the hunt, Dad. I know better than that…I'm not that stupid," he whispered.

John nodded slightly and sighed. "I know that, kiddo. I know you would never jeopardize us like that. This is all on me. I was frustrated and I let that motivate my actions. I hope you can forgive your old man," he said with a tired grin.

Sam smiled back as he lifted his hand to touch the bandage on his head. "Nothin' to forgive…just a misunderstanding," he said, his eyes drooping as exhaustion pulled at him.

Dean reached for Sam's hand and gently pushed it back down onto the bed. "Don't touch, kiddo…Dad hasn't stitched it yet," he reprimanded.

"Sorry," Sam replied. "So, I suppose you're going to do it now?" he asked, his weary, hazel eyes moving from Dean to John.

"Yeah, I need to get it closed up, kiddo," John answered. "I'm sorry, Sam…I was hoping to get it done while you were still out. I hate that I'm going to cause you more pain."

Sam shrugged as he graced his father with another smile. "'s okay, Dad. I'm tough…I can take it," he said.

John chuckled and reached up to ruffle Sam's hair. "I know you are. You're the toughest of us all," he replied. "So, shall we start?"

Sam nodded and allowed Dean to take his hand in his. John unwrapped the wound and quietly went to work stitching the cut. By the time he was done, Sam's eyes were squeezed shut and a thin sheen of sweat covered his face, but the teen didn't make a single sound throughout. Once John had finished re-bandaging the wound he patted Sam's leg and smiled when his son met his eyes. "All done. You did great, kiddo. Now, get some sleep," he said.

"'k," Sam whispered as he shut his eyes. A few seconds later his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the other bed where his eldest brother lay. "Is Danny okay?" he asked as his gaze took in his brother's pale, lax face.

"He's fine, Sam. He just needs a lot of rest to get better. Just like you need rest, so go to sleep. I'll be right here, okay?" John answered.

Sam watched Daniel's chest rise and fall for a few moments before turning his attention back to his father and Dean. "Okay," he said, even as his eyes shut and his breaths evened out.

John smiled then looked up at Dean. He shook his head when he saw how hard the young man was fighting his own battle to stay awake. "Dean, you need to get some sleep. Get changed and crawl in with Sam," he said, keeping his voice down so as not to awaken either of his injured sons.

"But, Dad…we need to keep an eye on them," Dean argued. "Sam needs to be woken up every hour or so and we need to make sure that Danny's side doesn't get infected."

"And that's just what I'll do. You're dead on your feet and you won't do anyone any good if you collapse from exhaustion."

"But…"

"Get some rest, Dean. I'll wake you when I get tired and you can take my place, okay?"

Dean eyed his father suspiciously, but finally gave in when he realized how right his father was. He was beyond tired and it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his eyes open. He quickly changed into his sleep pants and tee shirt then wriggled in under the covers next to Sam. He smiled fondly as Sam instinctually pressed into his side. He turned onto his side and draped his arm over Sam's stomach. He glanced up at John and grinned even as he felt the warmth as his cheeks reddened. John shook his head and once again told Dean to get some sleep. The young man closed his eyes and within minutes he was sleeping soundly. John flipped the lamp between the beds off, the only light now coming from the small light above the table. He turned his chair so he could see both beds and relaxed back into the chair. He had nearly lost two of his sons this night and he counted his blessings that he could sit here and watch all three as they slept.

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"Dean! Wake up!"

Dean came awake with a start, his eyes blinking to clear away the sleep, his heart racing as he tried to pinpoint the threat to he and his family. He turned to grab the knife under his pillow, but flinched when he felt a hand on his arm. He blinked his eyes again and his father's face came into focus through the dimly lit room. "Dad?" he whispered hoarsely, voice tinged with confusion.

"We have to go now, Dean?" John said as he switched the light on between the beds.

Dean lifted his hand to cover his eyes until they could adjust to the sudden light, then scrambled out of bed. "What? Why? What's wrong, Dad?" he cried as he obediently moved to change into his clothes that lay in a messy pile next to the bed.

"Sam and Danny…they're fevers have spiked…"

"Wait…fevers? They didn't have fevers when I went to bed!"

"Well, they do now and they're spiking. I can't get either one to wake up! We have to get them to the hospital!" John hissed as he hurried to the door to head out to the impala and get it ready for their departure.

"Dad! Shouldn't we call 911?"

"That would take too long! I can get them to the hospital faster! Now get ready and grab Sam. I'll open the car up then I'll get Danny!"

Dean nodded and pulled his jeans on over his sleep pants, then shoved his bare feet into his boots. He turned took in his baby brother's pale face, his hand coming up to cup Sam's reddened cheek. "Hey, kiddo…you're freaking Dad out so you should wake up, okay?" he said softly as he gave the cheek a gentle pat. Dean's heart rate picked up when he got no reaction from Sam. He glanced over to where his older brother lay and took in a deep breath. He felt his world shift around him and for a moment he felt light headed. The thought of losing both his brothers was more than he could comprehend and he let out a soft sob at the very thought of it. He was broken from his thoughts when his father called out to him.

"Dean! We have to go! Now!"

"Yeah…I…I'm getting him," Dean stammered as he pulled the covers back from Sam and slid his arms beneath his knees and back. He dragged the teen across the bed then lifted him into his arms. "We're going to get you and Danny some help, Sammy. You stay with us, you hear?" he whispered as he rushed Sam out to the waiting car, John right on his heels with his own precious burden.

"Lay Sammy in the front seat, his head toward the driver's seat. I"ll put Danny in the back and you can sit with him," John instructed as he eased his eldest son into the car.

Dean nodded and gently set Sam in the front seat. He bent the teen's knees up and rested them against the seat back then waited for John to climb behind the wheel before he closed the door as quietly as he could. He hurried around the car and slid in, lifting Daniel's head and resting it on his lap. "All ready," he called. John nodded and sped off into the night, praying that his choice to take his sons to the motel and not the emergency room had not cost him both of them.

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It had been a whirlwind of worry and fear as first John and Dean had rushed their two family members to the hospital and then watched as they were whisked away behind closed doors to be examined. John had filled out all of the paperwork, providing the newest fake insurance cards and had then joined Dean in the waiting room after answering some questions asked of him by the ER nurse attending to Daniel. The two Winchesters sat shoulder to shoulder, the slight touch providing support to each of the two men while they awaited news of their loved ones. It wasn't long after they had begun their wait before two police officers had shown up and pulled John aside to ask him questions about his son's injuries. He had provided them with their cover story…they had been out hiking, intent on finding a camping spot when they had been split up. John and his middle son had heard the attack and had found both of the brothers clawed up and barely conscious. When asked why he hadn't immediately brought the two to the hospital, John had replied that he didn't think it was as bad as it was. He had explained that he was a former medic in the service and had patched up wounds that were much worse. Though the officers weren't impressed by his answer, they admitted that no law was broken, although the fact that Sam was a minor could mean more questions could be asked by a CPS agent in the future. John had nodded and made his way back to Dean and now they sat, awaiting news on either of the two wounded brothers.

John was just starting to nod off when Dean nudged him and they both stood as a doctor headed their way. They stepped forward as the doctor neared and waited anxiously for him to speak.

"Mr. Campion?" doctor asked as he looked between the two eager men.

"Yes, I'm John Campion. How are my sons?" John answered.

"Right to the point," the doctor said with a tired smile. "I'm Doctor Adler and I've been working on both of your sons. I looked over their wounds and am quite impressed with the stitching you did, although I did have to reopen the wounds to drain the infections and re-clean them. You did a very thorough job, but unfortunately infection still set in. It is quite possible that there was some sort of bacteria on the animal's claws and it had already entered the bloodstream by the time you were able to clean the wounds. We have both young men on heavy duty antibiotics and hopefully they will begin to recover soon. Now, Sam also has a nice little concussion going on, but we did a scan and there is no bleeding that we can find so I am fairly confident that he will suffer no lasting effects," Doctor Adler explained.

"Okay, so…why won't they wake up?" Dean asked, his voice clipped with worry.

Doctor Adler smiled as he turned his attention to the young man. "Both Daniel and Sam did awaken for brief periods when we were cleaning and re-stitching their wounds. Their high fevers are making them quite lethargic, but once the antibiotics start to kick in and their fevers go down, they should be more coherent," he answered.

"So they're going to be okay?" John asked.

"I believe we caught the infections early enough that they will be feeling much better in a few days. We are getting them settled in their rooms...I didn't feel that the ICU was necessary…and once they are ready a nurse will come to get you," the doctor replied.

"Are they in the same room? Because, I know they would want to be in the same room," Dean asked.

"Unfortunately, since Sam is under the age of 18, he was placed in the Pediatric ward, but he isn't that far from where Daniel is so it shouldn't be too much of a bother going from one to the other," Doctor Adler explained. "I have other patients to tend to so I will have to take my leave, but a nurse should be down to get you soon. I'll fill in the doctors assigned to their wards and they should be checking on them in the morning. Good night, gentlemen."

"Thank you, doctor," John said. The doctor nodded then turned and left the two men alone. They both settled into their seats and waited for the nurse to come for them, both tired, yet wired up at the same time. They knew they were in for a long night and just hoped that Daniel's and Sam's treatments did the trick and that there would be no surprises in the coming days.

 **So, the boys are being taken care of. Hopefully there are no complications, but most of you know me so...LOL. Let me know what you think and I'll get going on the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hidey ho, everybody! I'm back with chapter 4! This story is now officially longer than I had planned it to be :) Of course, my stories always seem to become longer than I plan them to be! So shoot me ;) Anyway, I won't bore you with my ramblings. Just read!**

Chapter 4

John rubbed his tired eyes for the hundredth time before returning his gaze to his eldest son. He let out an exhausted breath then turned to look at his youngest son in the next bed, Dean at his bedside, Sam's smaller hand in his. They had finally succeeded in convincing the doctors to move Sam into Daniel's room, using the excuse that he was terrified of hospitals and would be even worse if he were separated from his brother. This was the same excuse John had given the CPS officer who had come to talk to him about not immediately taking his son to the hospital. He had been at Sam's bedside for an hour, Dean with Daniel, and he had been beyond tired. Luckily for John, the CPS officer didn't seem too keen on doing much paperwork so had signed off with a slight nod of his head. The man had left after only a few minutes and John had collapsed into his chair with a relieved sigh. That was five hours ago and much had changed since then. Sam had been moved to Daniel's room at John's insistence, both brother's fevers had continued to rise despite the treatments they were receiving and now Daniel wore an oxygen mask to help with his breathing. There was talk between Sam's and Daniel's doctors of moving Daniel, if not Sam as well, to the ICU so they could be more closely monitored, but so far both brothers remained on the medical floor with even stronger antibiotics coursing through them, but their condition had only worsened. John was at his wits end and Dean had pretty much shut down. He would hold Sam's hand for a while and then he and John would switch sides and he would hold Daniel's. That was how it had been since it became apparent the antibiotics weren't working and John feared he may very well lose all three of his boys because there was no way Dean could go on without his brothers.

John laid his arm on the edge of Daniel's bed then dropped his head to rest upon it. He couldn't take this…watching his son's fight for their lives and watching his third slowly slip away from him. Neither Sam nor Daniel had been conscious for more than a few minutes at a time the entire time they'd been sitting with them and even now, Sam's breathing was becoming more and more labored. John knew it was only a matter of time before he too would be forced to wear an oxygen mask. He figured that Daniel was not far from the point where the mask would no longer be enough and it terrified him to think that he might need to be intubated in order to breathe. John lifted his head and stared at his eldest. There had to be something they could do. This was no ordinary infection and John feared that nothing the doctors did would be of any help. Suddenly, he pushed to his feet, the chair he'd been seated in scraping across the floor and drawing Dean's exhausted green eyes to him.

"I can't just sit here and watch them die," John hissed. "I'm going to call Bobby…see if he has any ideas. You stay with them, Dean…I'll be right down the hall," he added. He hurried out of the room when Dean gave him a slow nod and rushed to the family room a few doors down. He was dialing Bobby's number as he hit the door to the room and nearly sagged with relief when his friend answered on the eighth ring.

"Winchester…this better be good for you to be getting me outa bed at this hour!" Bobby's sleep filled voice snapped at the other end of the line and John couldn't keep the slight grin from curling his lips.

"Bobby…what do you know about an infection brought on by the claws of a wendigo?" John asked in a rush.

"What? Wendigo? What the hell have you gotten yerself into ya damn idjit!?" Bobby spat. John could hear the rustling of papers and surmised that Bobby had made his way to his den even before John had spoken.

"It's…it's Danny and Sam. They got clawed and now they're both in the hospital with infections. None of the treatments are working and I think I'm gonna lose them, Bobby," John sputtered, his fine hold on his emotions cracking as he said the words. "Please, I beg you, tell me there is something I can do. I can't lose them. Dean…he…"

"What about Dean? He hurt too?" Bobby questioned from his end, the obvious sound of a book smacking open reaching John's ears.

"No, he's not hurt. He's…he's losing it. He's watching his brothers dying in front of him and he's checking out and I don't know what to do. I'm losing all three of them, Bobby…please…help me," John cried, all attempts at remaining stoic thrown out the window as he laid it on the line for his friend.

"Now, Johnny, just hold yerself together. I know I've read something about this. Not many folk survive a wendigo attack, but there have been some. There's a fever that just keeps burning hotter and hotter, but there's a draught recipe. If I can just find that, you can make it up and feed it to the boys. It'll knock that fever out…I just have to find it," Bobby snapped.

John took a deep breath and listened to the sound of his friend paging through whatever book he had pulled from the stacks in his den, the man's patience wavering with each passing second. Finally, when he thought he could take no more and was about to yell at the older hunter over the phone, Bobby's voice came back on the line.

"Found it! You gotta pen and paper handy?"

John looked frantically around the room and he sprang forward when he saw a note pad and pencil lying on a small desk in the corner. "Yeah, Bobby…I got it. Tell me what I need," he said as he sat at the desk and took the pencil in hand. Bobby recited a list of ingredients and how to mix up the draught while John wrote every word down.

"Ya got all that, Johnny?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah…thanks Bobby. I owe you one," John answered.

"Nah…ya don't me a thing, ya damn idjit. Just git them boys healthy," Bobby huffed. "Ya want me to head yer way?" he added.

"No need for that, Bobby. If this works the way you say it's supposed to, we should be heading your way for a bit of down time once the boys are feeling better…if that's okay," John answered.

"Ya don't even need to ask, Johnny. I'll be waitin' to hear from ya so I can set yer rooms up," Bobby said. "Give 'em each a cup as soon as ya can. It should start working right away. Give 'em another cup about three hours later. That should be all ya need, but make extra, just in case."

"Will do, Bobby…and…thanks again, for everything."

John chuckled when heard Bobby draw in an exasperated breath. He was pretty sure he heard the older man call him an idjit before the line went dead. John stuffed the pad of paper and the pencil into his jacket pocket, stood and rushed back to his son's room. He hurried through the door to find that Dean had positioned himself so that he could still hold Sam's hand, but see Daniel with just a small turn of his head. The tired young man looked up as John entered and John felt a bit of relief when he saw the spark of hope in Dean's green eyes.

"Was Bobby able to help?" Dean asked cautiously.

John nodded and give his son a warm smile. "He found a draught that I need to mix up. Once Danny and Sam drink it, the infection should start clearing up," he answered. "I'm going to have to leave you for a bit to gather the items I need and get this concoction mixed up, but I won't be gone long. This will be over soon, Dean, and your brothers will be fine," he said as walked up to Daniel's bed. He squeezed his eldest's hand then moved over to Sam. He watched his youngest with a fond smile then leaned over and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. He met Dean's surprised gaze and shrugged his shoulders before heading to the door.

"Are you sure this will work, Dad?" Dean's hesitant voice called and John turned at the door and smiled.

"Bobby assured me that it would. It has to work…there is no other outcome I will accept," John said. At Dean's nod, John nodded in return then left the hospital.

Dean sighed as the door shut behind his father. He stood and walked the few steps to Daniel's bed, taking up his hot and giving it a squeeze. "Dad's gonna get something that will fix you and Sammy right up. Just keep fighting, Danny, I can't do this without you," he said with a slight hitch in his voice. He watched Daniel's face for a moment then returned to Sam's bedside. He stood over the bed took in Sam's pale face. He gently brushed the hair from Sam's eyes then took his hand.

"Sammy…you have to fight, just like Danny is fighting. You saved his life, now you have to hold onto yours with all that you have until Dad can get here. Don't you leave me, kiddo. I couldn't take it if I lost either one of you," Dean whispered. He lifted his hand and brushed away the single tear that escaped down his cheek. He gave a small chuckle as he sat down on the chair once again. "See what you two have done? You made me cry like a chick. You are both going to pay for that when you're better," he said as he sent up a silent prayer for his father's speedy return with the medicine that he hoped would save both of his brother's lives.

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John rushed through the doors of the hospital some two hours after leaving his sons and made straight for the elevators that stood just past the reception desk. He had his hand in his deep jacket pocket, his fingers wrapped tightly around the jar that held what he prayed was the lifesaving draught Bobby had promised it would be. He punched in the number for the medical floor and waiting impatiently as the elevator made its way up. Finally, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. John was out into the hall before the doors had even fully opened and was halfway down the hall toward his son's room before it closed. He glanced around as he came to the room, then slipped inside. He smiled when Dean jumped to his feet, his eyes wide with expectation.

"Finally!" Dean hissed. "They've been in and asking for you. They are moving toward moving them both to ICU since they've both gotten even worse since you left and Danny's doctor thinks they should put a damn tube down his throat!"

"Slow down, slugger. It took some time to find all of the ingredients and then I had to go to the hotel to mix them all," John said as he hurried to the beds. "Grab me Danny's water cup…we need to get this into him!"

Dean did as he was told then stood beside his father. "How are we going to get him to drink it when he's unconscious?" he asked.

John glanced over at Dean once he had filled the cup. "I'll lift him up and hold him…you will slowly pour the draught in his mouth. I'll rub his throat to get him to swallow," he answered as he handed the cup to Dean and sat on the edge of the bed, preparing to lift his son.

"And that will work?" Dean asked as he too moved into position.

"I had to do it before. Rubbing the throat triggers an automatic swallowing motion," John replied. "Just pour it slowly so he doesn't choke."

"Um, should I lock the door maybe?" Dean asked.

"No…the nurses were on the other side of the ward doing their rounds. It should be about fifteen minutes before they get to us," John said.

"But, Danny's doctor could be back at any time to talk to you. He said…"

"Then we better hurry now, huh?" John interrupted.

Dean nodded and waited until John had Daniel in the correct position. When John gave the go ahead, he gently eased Daniel's mouth open and carefully poured the draught in while John rubbed his fingers up and down his son's throat. Just as John and said, Daniel started to swallow the mixture, which to Dean's surprise did not smell bad like he had expected. It took a few minutes, but finally the cup was drained. Dean helped John ease Daniel back down onto the bed, then they moved to Sam's bed. Dean filled the cup again then waited for John to lift his baby brother up. Once Sam was leant against John's chest, Dean repeated what he had done with Daniel and soon, Sam's cup was empty as well. John shook off Dean's attempt to help him with Sam, the man preferring to hold his youngest for a few minutes before he finally shifted and laid the boy down. John twisted the lid back onto the jar that held the remaining draught, then shoved it into his pocket. Both Winchesters took their seats next to the beds. They hadn't been seated for more than a few minutes when the door swung open and Daniel's doctor stepped into the room.

"Mr. Campion, you're back," the doctor said.

"Yeah, sorry about not being here before, Dr. Stewart. I had to step out for a few to run back to the hotel," John said as he stood to greet the shorter man. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"I am quite concerned with Daniel's condition…as Sam's doctor is about his. We have both talked it over and think it would be best if we move both of your sons up to the ICU for more specialized care," Dr. Stewart said. "Now, they won't be able to be in the same room and you won't be able to stay with them round the clock like now, but…"

John shook his head as he turned to glance at both of his ill sons. "I think I'd like to give the treatment a little bit more time to work first," he said in reply.

"But, Mr. Campion…the antibiotics aren't working. Your sons are getting worse! Daniel's breathing continues to become more labored and…"

"I understand, but…I think that if we give it just a few more hours they will turn the corner. Like I've explained, Sam is terrified of hospitals. If he wakes up in the ICU with none of us around, it could be very detrimental to him. And Danny…well, he is very protective of his little brother. If he can't see him, it wouldn't be good…at all," John interrupted.

Dr. Stewart glared at the man before him and let out an exasperated breath. "I can't force you to okay Daniel's move since he is an adult, but we can make a push for Sam, since he is a minor. If you truly care about your sons then…"

John's nostrils flared with anger as he stared the doctor down. Dean stood, his own anger at the doctor's words making his face turn red. John took a step toward the doctor and Dean feared for a moment that he would hit the man. John seemed to physically rein in his anger however and took a deep breath before speaking.

"I appreciate your concern and that is why I'm going to forgive you for insinuating that I don't care about my boys," John hissed. "But, I know my sons better than you and I know that moving them will not help. Just give them two hours. If they worsen before then, I will give the okay to move them, but I will not agree to not having myself or Dean in the rooms with them," he continued.

Dr. Stewart looked down at his clipboard, then glanced at both patients before returning his gaze to their father. "Okay, two hours. If they haven't improved then you will give the okay to move them?" he asked.

"Yes, you have my word," John replied.

"But if they worsen before that?" the doctor asked.

"Then you can move them."

"Daniel's breathing is dangerously labored. We can intubate him without moving him to ICU. I would strongly suggest you consider it."

John looked at his son and sighed. "One hour. If his breathing isn't any better, you can intubate him," he finally said.

Dr. Stewart thought for a moment then nodded. "Okay, I'll have the nurses monitor both boys every 20 minutes. If their condition becomes worse at any time, you need to have me paged," he said.

"I will," John said in reply.

The doctor checked both patients then silently left the room. John and Dean both breathed sighs of relief and returned to their chairs. Now all they had to do was wait to see if Bobby's concoction would work.

 **Hmmm...I hope John made the right decision. Dang wendigos and their dirty little claws! I hope you liked this chapter. I really want to those boys to wake up. While they are so cute when they're sleeping, I am missing one pair of puppy dog eyes and one wise older brother saying wise things (although he hasn't been incredibly wise in this story). So, please let me know what you think and I'll get started on the next chapter. Thanks for reading!**

 **Cindy**


	5. Chapter 5

**I know...it's been too long! I am terribly sorry :( I write my stories during my breaks and any free time I have at work, but unfortunately I haven't had the time for breaks so far this month. The first two weeks of each month are very busy, but this month has been crazy. I finally got things caught up yesterday and have been working feverishly to get this chapter done before the weekend. Finally, it's done! I hope this longer chapter makes up for the long wait. So, on with the story...**

 **Chapter 5**

Dean watched wearily as the nurse first checked Sam's vitals then moved to Daniel and did the same. After checking the levels of the fluids in the IV bags hanging next to Daniel's bed, she looked up and met Dean's expectant eyes. She gave him a small smile.

"His fever is down. It's still high, but it's heading in the right direction, so that's good," the nurse informed him. "His breathing seems better as well."

Dean nodded with relief then glanced at Sam. "And Sammy?" he asked quietly.

The nurses' smile faded and she gave a slight shake of her head. "Still the same," she answered. She saw the way the young man before her deflated and offered up a glimmer of hope. "His fever hasn't worsened though. That's a good sign."

Dean met her eyes and gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks," he whispered as he lifted his hand and tenderly brushed his fingers over Sam's arm. He frowned at the heat he still felt radiating from the teen and looked up at Sam's lax face, his cheeks reddened from the continued fever. He sensed the nurse move toward him and dragged his eyes from his brother's face.

"He hasn't gotten worse, which is a lot different than the past days, Dean. And Daniel seems to finally be improving. Just give them both some time," the nurse kindly said. Dean nodded his acknowledgement then turned toward the door when it swung open. He relaxed slightly when John entered the room with two cups of coffee and a brown paper bag in his hands.

"Dean? What's going on?" John asked as he stepped up between the two beds and set the coffee and bag on Daniel's rolling table.

Dean cleared his throat and waited for the nurse to get the hint and leave. "I'll inform Dr. Stewart of Sam and Daniel's conditions," she said before silently leaving the two Winchesters alone.

John watched the nurse leave then turned back to his son. "So? What's going on?" he repeated.

"Danny's fever has come down some and his breathing is better. Maybe Bobby's brew is working," Dean answered.

John moved to Daniel's bedside and rested his hand on the unconscious young man's forehead. "He does seem cooler," he said, mostly to himself. After a few moments he turned and let his eyes drift over his youngest son. "What about Sammy?" he asked as he then turned his gaze to Dean.

"Fever isn't any better, but it isn't any worse either," Dean replied. John did the same with Sam as he had with Daniel. He frowned when he did indeed find that Sam was just as hot as he had been before he had slipped out of the room for some fresh air and to get Dean and himself some coffee and doughnuts. When John didn't say anything, Dean stood up and moved to his side.

"Why would the stuff be working for Danny and not Sam?" Dean asked, his voice laced with worry.

John glanced over and shrugged. "It's just been an hour, Dean. Give him some more time," he said.

"But, Dad…"

"He's smaller than Danny. And remember, he had that chest infection a few weeks ago…his immune system probably hasn't bounced completely back yet," John reasoned, as much for himself as for Dean. "I'm sure he'll start improving any time now."

"What about Dr. Stewart? If he doesn't see improvement…"

"His main concern was with Danny, not Sam. Sam's breathing isn't as labored as Danny's was. I don't see him wanting to move Sam just because his fever hasn't come down any, especially when it hasn't risen any higher," John stated.

Dean visibly relaxed at his father's words. Sam hadn't been in as bad of shape as Daniel had been, other than the concussion that is. It just seemed like he was sicker now because his fever was still as high as it had been, and he did just get over a nasty infection just a few weeks prior. It made sense that his body would not be able to fight the current infection as well as Daniel's did, but the draught did appear to be working so he hoped that his father was correct and that Sam would be improving, he was just taking his sweet time at it.

"So, when can we give them the next round of Bobby's potion?" Dean asked as he once again took his seat in the chair he had vacated.

"He said three hours for the next dose," John answered. He handed Dean one of the cups he had brought in before then handing over the paper bag. Once he had his own coffee in hand he sat in the chair nearer Daniel's bed and sighed as the weight was taken off his feet.

"So, two more hours then. What if…what if Dr. Stewart does want to move Sam…or Danny? If they're in ICU, it will be nearly impossible to give them the next dose," Dean said.

John shook his head and gave his son a tired smile. "I don't think it will come to that, but if it does then we'll just have to give the dose earlier, before they move either one of them," he answered.

"Will that hurt them though?"

"It would hurt them more if they didn't get the next dose I think, but let's not worry about that right now. I want you to eat and maybe get a little bit of sleep," John said.

"Dad, I…"

"No arguments, Dean. You look dead on your feet and I won't have you getting sick too. Now eat."

Dean let out a long breath and nodded. "Yes sir," he murmured before pulling a doughnut from the bag and taking a bite.

The two hunters ate their breakfast and drank their coffee in silence. Once he was finished, John stood and gaged both of his sons temperatures with his hand again, smiling at what he felt with Daniel, and frowning with Sam. He wouldn't let Dean know, but he was more worried about his youngest now. Surely Sam should be feeling cooler. He was smaller than his brother, but had received the same amount of the draught so John figured he actually received a larger dose. He hoped that he was correct in his assumption and it was just because of the chest infection Sam had had before. He could sense Dean's eyes on him and turned to meet the young man's expectant gaze.

"Danny's feeling even cooler," he said. Noting Dean's unasked question, he continued. "Sammy is the same I think, maybe a little bit cooler, but not enough to really tell."

Dean turned his gaze to his younger brother and sighed. He rose from his chair and smiled appreciatively when John moved out of his way. He brushed his fingertips over Sam's cheek as he watched the teen sleep. "You have to fight this, Sammy. If Danny wakes up and you're still out of it, he's gonna be pretty upset," he whispered. "You know how he gets with you. All mother hen and everything," he added with a soft grin. He looked up at his father when he heard him snort.

"What?"

"So, it's Danny who's the mother hen, huh?" John asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Dean rolled his eyes and smiled. "Yeah…well…um…okay, I admit it. I can be a tad bit over protective…at times, but…I'm not as bad as Danny," he defended.

"Uh huh." John chuckled as he moved to sit down again.

"It's true! Danny's like a big, beefy girl. All sensitive and crap, but with muscles and facial hair. Not as bad as Sammy, but still…"

Dean's semi-rant was cut off when the door swung open and Dr. Stewart stepped into the room. John rose to meet him while Dean stayed by Sam's side, suddenly afraid to let the doctor touch his brother for fear that he may wish to have him moved. He watched as the doctor first went to Daniel's bed and checked him over. He noticed the slight upturn of the doctor's lips and breathed out a relieved breath.

"Well, it seems that you were right. He seems to have finally turned a corner and is on his way to recovery," Dr. Stewart said. "His fever is still high, but not dangerously high as it was before…and his breathing seems much better now. We may even see him begin to wake up soon," he added, smiling when he saw both men's reactions to the news. "Now, let me take a look at young Sam and see how he is doing."

Dean reluctantly moved aside so the doctor could check on Sam. He noted when Dr. Stewart furrowed his brow and was ready to start arguing as soon as the man turned to he and John. "Well, it looks like Sam's temperature hasn't begun to respond as well to the medications as Daniel's has. I…"

"But it hasn't risen anymore either," Dean interrupted.

Dr. Steward smiled as he met Dean's eyes. "Yes, I was just going to mention that. The fact that it hasn't risen is a positive sign that he is responding to treatment. I'm hopeful that his fever will start to decrease just like Daniel's has," he said.

"So, you aren't going to move him?" Dean asked.

"No, I don't believe it is necessary at this time. I'll be back in later today to check on them again. The nurses will be in checking their vitals regularly and relaying that information to me. Unless either one takes a dramatic turn for the worse, I would say it won't be long before they will be able to be able to be released…possibly by weeks end," Dr. Stewart answered.

"What about Sam's doctor? Will he be okay with waiting?" John asked.

"Sam's doctor was called out to a clinic across town. He has left me in charge of Sam's care and has asked that I keep him abreast of his condition. I'll let him know how things are going. I'm positive that he will agree with my assessment," Dr. Stewart explained.

"Thank you, Dr. Stewart," John said.

Dr. Stewart nodded and headed for the door. He stood in the open doorway and turned to them. "Just let the nurses know if you notice any negative change in either of their conditions," he instructed.

"We will," John replied.

The doctor smiled then left the two Winchesters alone. They returned to their chairs and over the next few hours they watched over Sam and Daniel, taking in everything that the nurses did when they would come in. Daniel's temperature continued to fall, slowly but surely. His breathing also continued to improve, enough so that his oxygen mask was replaced with a canula. Sam's fever stubbornly held its ground, dropping by only half a point in that same period of time. Finally, when the third hour after the first dose of the draught was given to them, John and Dean administered the second dose and hoped that this would be what Sam needed to finally turn the corner as Daniel had. It was a half hour after the second dose that one of the brothers showed signs of waking up. It took only a soft, barely audible moan to have both John and Dean on their feet and at Daniel's bedside, Dean coaxing his big brother while John stood by, holding his eldest's hand.

"Come on, Danny. It's about time you stopped being so lazy and woke up," Dean said as he watched his brother's eyes. He continued to coax his brother while John rubbed his hand, until finally they were rewarded when two tired, dull eyes opened and stared up at them. Daniel looked at them with confusion then lifted his hand to reach for the canula under his nose. John set his other hand down and gently grasped the reaching hand and pushed it back to the bed.

"Leave it there, Danny…it's helping with your breathing," he said with a relieved, tired smile.

"Wh…what hppn'd?" Daniel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, apparently you decided it wasn't important to let us know that you'd been injured too. You got a bad infection and are in the hospital now," Dean answered, though his voice only showed relief that his brother was awake and talking…sort of.

"I…I dn't know was that bad," Daniel mumbled. He continued to stare up at his family until suddenly his eyes widened and he made a push to sit up. He gasped in pain, but fought against his brother's and father's hold on him as he continued to try to rise.

"Danny! Stop…you're going to break your stitches!" John commanded as he held his son down.

"Sammy! Where is he!? Is he okay?" Daniel cried, his eyes wild as he tried to see around his family members.

Dean leaned over and moved Daniel's face until their eyes met. "Sammy is fine. He's in the other bed sleeping," he said before he moved slightly so Daniel could look over and see that indeed, Sam was alive and near.

Daniel let out a breath as his eyes took in his little brother's sleeping form. "Sammy," he whispered with relief. Finally, he returned his gaze to his other family members. "So, he's okay?" he asked softly.

John nodded and took his son's hand in his again. "He will be. He ended up with the same infection as you, plus he has a concussion. He hasn't responded quite as quickly as you have to Bobby's potion, but he will," he explained.

"Bobby's potion?" a confused Daniel asked.

Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat at the memory of just how sick his brothers had been and responded. "Yeah. The meds the doctors were giving you two weren't working. Your fevers kept rising and your breathing was really bad. Dad called Bobby and the old fart said that there's a fever you get if you just happen to survive a wendigo attack. He found a potion that would take care of the infection. Dad got it mixed up and we had to feed it to you and Sammy when the nurses weren't around."

Daniel glanced back over at Sam's bed. "But he still looks so sick. Are you sure he's going to be okay?"

"He'll be fine," John replied. "I think that chest infection he had a few weeks back have made it a bit harder for him to recover, but he is improving."

"How long?"

"How long what?" John asked.

"How long have we been here?"

"Oh…uh…it's been around 12 hours since we rushed you and Sammy to the hospital. They had Sammy in the pediatric ward at first, but I convinced them that he needed to be here with you. They were talking about moving you both to the ICU since your fevers kept rising, but then I got Bobby's potion into you. Now the doctor thinks you may be able to leave by the end of the week," John answered.

Daniel nodded, apparently too tired to talk anymore, if his drooping eye lids were any indication. He fought against sleep though, asking for ice water to quench his dry throat and help wake him up more. When the nurse came in 15 minutes later to find one of her patients wide awake and talking with his family, she was thrilled. She checked his temperature and vitals and was pleased to see him at almost normal levels. The three watched intently as she moved to Sam's bedside and checked him over. When she was done she turned to them and smiled.

"His fever is down to 102.5…still high, but coming down," she said.

"Thank God," Dean breathed out in relief.

"I'll be back in a half hour to check on you both," the nurse said before leaving the hunters alone again.

The three elder Winchesters settled in, John having moved back to Sam's bedside. It wasn't long before Daniel lost his battle to stay awake and drifted off to a light slumber. With a lot of the tension he'd been feeling gone, Dean was able to get some rest as well, the young man sitting in his chair with his arms and head resting on Daniel's bed beside the older siblings arm. Twenty minutes later, John was just starting to drift off himself when a noise abruptly awoke him. Confused at first when he looked over to see that Daniel and Dean were still restfully sleeping, it took a moment to realize that the noise was coming from Sam. His eyes widened in fear when he took in the scene before him. Sam was stiff as a board, his teeth clenched tight and eyes wide open, though unseeing. His body jerked despite him being so rigid and John immediately knew what was happening. He lunged toward his son and grabbed his arms just as the monitors started blaring out their warnings that something was terribly wrong.

Dean flew up out of his chair at the racket and stared in utter disbelief at his little brother's seizing form. Daniel had also come awake and grabbed at Dean's arm to try and pull himself up just as the door to the room slammed open and several medical personnel poured into the room.

"Sammy!" Daniel screamed as he tried to get up. His voice brought Dean around and the young man turned to hold his older brother down.

"Danny! You're going to hurt yourself! They're helping him…just stop!" Dean cried, his attention torn between his two brothers.

Daniel finally stopped fighting and the two brothers watched wide eyed as their father was pushed aside to make room for the nurses to work on Sam. I few moments later, Dr. Stewart ran into the room and took over. After what seemed like hours, but was just a few minutes, Sam's body went lax, the shaking stopping as quickly as it had started. Dr. Stewart started barking orders at the nurses as he continued to check the teenager out. Finally, he turned to the three shaken Winchesters and let out a long, deep breath.

"Wh-what happened?" John stammered, his body shaking from the shock of seeing his baby seizing in his bed.

"I'm not sure at this point. It could be due to his concussion or it could be the infection. I won't know until I've run tests. I'm having another head scan done on him to rule out a brain bleed and we'll do blood work and…"

"But he was better! His fever was coming down!" Dean cried out, his green eyes shiny and wet.

"I'm going to find out what happened, Dean. Sam's going to be okay," Dr. Stewart said. His eyes then moved to his other patient and he moved to check on the young man who couldn't take his eyes off of his youngest brother. Without a word, Dr. Stewart checked Daniel over for any sign that he had reinjured himself. Satisfied that all was well, he turned to find that John had returned to Sam's side and was holding his son's hand and speaking softly to him. Sam remained unresponsive, though thankfully tremor free. Just then, the door opened again and two men in white scrubs entered the room.

Dr. Stewart stepped up to John and rested his hand on his arm. "Mr. Campion, these men are here to take Sam to get his scan. They and I will take very good care of him," he said compassionately.

John looked up and nodded. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on Sam's forehead then moved away from the bed to allow the men access to the bed. He, along with his other two sons watched as the bed was wheeled through the door, taking their precious family member with it. They were all silent as the door closed, leaving them shocked and filled with renewed fear that their family could still be in danger of losing one of its own.

 **So, yeah. I tried, but I just couldn't let Sam get off so easily. I wanted at least one of the boys awake in this chapter and asking about his brother, and as hard as I tried for it to be Sam who recovered first, I just couldn't do it. I'm touched in the head, I know, but I can't help it. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will try to get the next chapter up much faster than this one...though no promises because, well, things happen. Please let me know what you think! Thank you so much for sticking with me!**

 **Cindy**


	6. Chapter 6

So, this is the final chapter! For what was supposed to be a two/three chapter story, it didn't get away from quite as badly as previous stories have :)

I want to thank all of you for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting (is that a word?). It means the world to me that you still enjoy my stories and my Danny! Before I start rambling...I better let you get to reading!

Chapter 6

It had been over an hour and the waiting was excruciating. The three Winchester men watched the door like hawks waiting for a rabbit to pop out of its hole, though one of the three would nod off for a few minutes only to jerk awake at the slightest sound, his baby brother's name a whisper on his dry lips. Dean sat next to the bed, the young man not wanting to be out of arms reach of his older brother, while John paced the floor, looking at the clock on the wall then to the door and then back again to the clock. Finally, Dean had had enough, because really, watching his father pace like a caged tiger was quite exhausting.

"Dad," Dean called, his voice hoarse from exhaustion. "Sit down…please. You're making me dizzy."

John stopped and glanced over at his sons. Dean looked terrible…almost as bad as Daniel. Dark circles hung under his dull eyes and his hair was a mess. He looked pale and drawn and it dawned on John just how hard this was on his middle son. His brothers meant everything to him and he had nearly lost both of them…could still lose one. Of course, it was equally hard on John…these were his sons after all, but he was the one who was supposed to be strong. He was the one who was supposed to keep them safe and to be the one to fix things when he wasn't able to uphold that. He gave Dean a small smile before he moved to his vacated chair and took a seat, a deep groan escaping him as his tired, achy muscles complained for the movement.

"He's gonna be okay, Dad," Daniel softly said with a tired, weak voice. "He has to be okay," he added to himself, though both his father and brother heard him.

It was in that moment that John realized something else, looking at the way both Daniel and Dean stared longingly at the door and the way his heart just couldn't keep from beating wildly in his chest. While he was the father…the leader of this family, it was Sam who was the glue that held them all together. It was Sam who made them fight so hard. Sam, the one who never liked this life, but who also never had a choice but to live it. John took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His youngest drove him to the brink at times, but John loved him more than life itself and he knew without a doubt that if they lost Sam, they would lose the one thing that meant the most to them. Sam was the link to Mary…the last gift she had given them and that, John realized, was why, though they loved each other equally and fiercely, it was Sam who was always first and foremost on their minds. Keep Sam safe…that was the silent motto that the three older Winchesters had adopted and lived by. John smiled softly to himself when he thought of how Sam would become annoyed at their over protectiveness, but he allowed it anyway, no matter how much it drove him crazy. The kid knew…maybe not consciously, but he knew.

"Dad?"

John flinched at the sudden voice and looked over to see both sons eyeing him with concern. "Uh, yeah? What is it?" he asked.

"You were zoned out. Are you okay?" Dean asked.

John nodded as he gave his boys a tired grin. "I'm fine. Was just thinking."

"Oh…well that's scary. Nothing good ever comes from that," Daniel said.

"Keep it up, boys and I'll show you scary," John growled.

Dean smiled and Daniel chuckled and for a moment the three hunters were able to break through the cloud of fear and worry and desperation and just be a family. The moment was cut short however when the door to the room suddenly swung open. Three sets of eyes whipped to the door, but none were expecting to see their youngest being pushed through the door on his bed looking decidedly better than when he had been taken away. Dean and John were both on their feet, though Dean's hand instinctively went to Daniel's shoulder, gently, but firmly pressing down to keep the young man from sitting up and hurting himself. They watched as Sam's bed was moved into its empty space, then John turned his attention to Dr. Stewart, who had followed the bed in.

"Is he okay? What happened?" John blurted out, his heart picking up an even faster beat.

Dr. Stewart smiled when he met John's eyes. He noted that the two others only had eyes for their brother and it made him smile even wider. "Sam is fine. He's doing better now that we know what happened," the doctor answered, suddenly finding all three sets of eyes upon him.

"What did happen? Why did he have a seizure?" Dean asked in a rush as he moved to Sam's bedside once the orderlies had moved away.

"Well, I was concerned that it was his head injury, but when I checked his vitals before his scan, I noted that his temperature had dropped dramatically from the last time it was checked by the nurse, as noted in his chart. It was a short period of time for it to drop that much and sometimes, this sudden change in temperature can cause a seizure. This is what happened to Sam," Dr. Stewart answered.

"So, he's okay then? The seizure didn't hurt him any? I mean, with his concussion and all?" Daniel asked, his attention moving from the doctor to his brothers then back again.

Dr. Steward shook his head as he moved around to the far side of Sam's bed. "We did the scan, just to be sure, and everything looks fine. Sam even woke up a little bit right before the scan," he replied.

"Sammy woke up? Did he say anything?" Dean asked, his fingers lightly brushing over Sam's arm.

"He wasn't completely awake, but he did ask if Danny was okay, then he went back to sleep," Dr. Stewart said as he glanced over to his patient in the other bed.

The three Winchesters chuckled at that. "Of course he did," Dean said with deep affection as he gave Sam's arm a light squeeze. He was rewarded for the action by a soft moan coming from the sleeping teen. He turned his full attention to Sam and smiled when he saw the boy's eyelids fluttering. "Sammy? Come on, squirt…wake up," he coaxed while taking Sam's hand in his.

Dr. Stewart smiled at the scene then cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it looks as though you will be having a reunion of sorts so I will leave you to it. As always, let the nurses know if there are any concerns and they will get that to me," he said. John gave him a quick nod before moving to his son's bedside. He didn't notice as the doctor quietly ducked out of the room.

John reached Sam's side and tenderly brushed the hair from his eyes as he waited for him to wake up. Dean continued to speak to Sam in a soft voice, urging him to open his eyes, while Daniel could do nothing but watch from where he lay. Finally, Sam's eyes opened and he stared forward for a few moments before his brother's voice cleared the cobwebs from his head. He turned and looked up to see Dean beaming down at him. He couldn't help the soft smile that curled his lips.

"Dean?" Sam croaked, his throat dry and scratchy from disuse. Dean reached for the cup of water on the bedside table as John eased Sam's head up so he could drink. When he was done, Dean pulled the cup away then returned his attention to the teen. "Thanks," Sam said before turning to his father.

"Dad? Is Danny okay?" he asked, hazel eyes pleading with his father to say it was so.

"Danny is just fine. He's been waiting for you to wake up," John answered with a grin.

Dean moved down the side of the bed and tugged on Sam's hand. When Sam turned his head, he could see his eldest brother smiling at him from the other bed and he sagged with relief. "Danny," he breathed out before a bright smile spread over his face.

"Hey, kiddo. About time you decided to wake up," Daniel said. "These two are about as exciting as watching grass grow. Finally, I have someone I can talk to about stuff other than guns, ammo and girls," he added with a wink.

Sam's grin widened even further and he let out a soft giggle that worked to release the bands that had been squeezing the older Winchester's hearts since his seizure. Dean gave an exaggerated huff as he turned to his father, his formerly dull eyes once again sparkling. "Hey, Dad…maybe we should leave these ladies to talk about lady things while we go do man stuff…huh?" he asked, pulling a growl from his baby brother.

"You're just jealous that Sammy and I can talk about things other than eating meat and intake valves," Daniel shot.

"Uh, yeah…why don't I run down to the corner coffee house and grab you two some fru fru coffee drinks with whipped cream while Dad and I chug some beer…that sound good?"

John shook his head and smiled at the banter. He had missed this. He and Sam had been at each other for a while now and it put a damper on the easy conversations the boys usually had. He had feared he may never hear them like this again and it buoyed him to hear it now. He turned his attention once more to his youngest and shook his head as Sam's mouth opened into a yawn. He smiled down at his son once again brushed his fingers through the teen's bangs.

"Hey, squirt…why don't you get some sleep. You look beat," John suggested as Sam's tired eyes met his. It surprised John when Sam merely nodded and his eyes slipped shut. Normally, he would protest and fight to stay awake, just to prove that he wasn't tired, even when it was quite obvious that he was. The fact that he didn't protest was testament to how exhausted he was. John glanced at his two older sons and smiled as he moved to take his seat once more. It wasn't long after Sam fell back to sleep that Daniel followed, and not long after that when the room was filled with the soft snores of the four Winchester's. It had been a long couple of days and with the threat of losing members of their family finally gone, the two healthy hunters were finally able to get some much needed rest as well. When the nurse came in a half hour later, she smiled warmly at the scene that met her. She checked her patients, taking care to not wake any of the sleeping hunters then silently left the room with a broad smile on her face.

SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN

John watched as Dean carefully helped Sam into a wheelchair at the side of his bed. Dean tucked Sam's robe around his legs as best as he could then looked over at his father. John had suggested that Sam may want to get some fresh air, but Dean knew the truth as to why he wanted them out of the room, and from the way Daniel wouldn't lift his eyes from his hands that lay grasped on top of the blanket that covered him, he knew too. It was time for a talk and John didn't want any distractions. Sam could tell there was something going on, but was smart enough not to ask. He spared a quick glance at his eldest brother as Dean wheeled him to the door, but Daniel didn't meet his gaze. Once the door shut behind the two brothers, John turned his attention to Daniel. The eldest of his son's lifted his eyes then and sighed.

"I know, Dad…I know what you're going to say. I…" Daniel started, but a hand on his arm stopped him and he looked over at the serious face of his father.

"I just want to know why, Danny. Why would you not tell me that you were hurt?" John finally asked. "I have ingrained it into you boys that you cannot hide an injury! How could you have been so dense?"

"Dad…I…Sammy was hurt really bad and I didn't want to take your attention from him," Daniel explained, his voice sounding all of 5 years old to his father.

John shook his head and let out a deep breath. "Danny...I get it, okay? It was Sammy and he was hurt, but you were hurt too. You could have died…what do you think that would've done to your brothers? To me?" he asked.

Daniel swallowed deeply and dropped his eyes again. "I didn't think it was that bad. I really didn't. I wanted you to take care of him and then I was going to tell you. I thought it would be fine. Besides, Sammy comes first, Dad…that's just the way it is!" the young man said, his voice rising with emotion.

John sat for a moment before speaking. Finally, he responded. "I know that we tend to put Sammy's safety first…we're all guilty of it...but that doesn't mean that we let our own injuries take a back seat. If I would have known that you were injured…had known to look…I would've driven you both straight to the hospital. That extra hour could have meant the difference between life and death…for either one of you."

Daniel lifted his head and looked at his father. His stomach knotted at the thought that while trying to make sure that Sam got the care he needed, he could have inadvertently caused more damage by keeping his own injury to himself. "I'm sorry, Dad. I never meant to make things worse. I was just so scared and…"

John squeezed Daniel's arm as he met his eyes. "I want you to realize that even though Sammy is the youngest and we are all crazy protective of him, you and Dean matter just as much. You can't hide your injuries to make sure that the squirt is taken care of first, especially if your injuries could be worse than his. I love you boys…all of you…more than anything in this world and I would not be able to handle it if I lost one of you," he explained.

"I know, Dad. I…"

"Promise me that you will never keep an injury a secret again, Danny," John interrupted.

Daniel nodded and gave his father a small smile. "I promise," he whispered.

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Five Days Later – Singer Salvage Yard

Sam glanced furtively at his brother for maybe the tenth time in as many minutes, then dropped his eyes to the book he held and pretended to read and sighed. He and Daniel had been forced to stay in the house while John, Dean and Bobby kept busy with things outside. The two brothers sat on opposite ends of the couch, Daniel's feet propped on the coffee table while he watched the television that Bobby had hooked up while Sam sat with his legs stretched the length of the couch, his feet resting comfortably on Daniel's lap. Daniel looked over at his brother upon hearing the sigh and cocked his head.

"What's up, kiddo?" Daniel asked. When Sam lifted his eyes and stared at him as innocently as he could, Daniel just shook his head. "Do you think I can't tell that you keep looking at me? You have something on your mind so why don't you just spit it out while we have some privacy," he said.

Sam took a deep breath then slowly let it out. He closed his book and set it gently on the coffee table. He opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, his hands clutching at each nervously in his lap.

"Sammy…what's wrong?" Daniel asked, sudden worry clouding his eyes. "This is me, squirt…you know you say anything to me."

Sam nodded as he leaned forward. "I…I just…when you collapsed in the motel, Danny…I was so scared. Dad and Dean…they…I could tell it was bad when they were looking you over…and you wouldn't wake up on the way to the hospital…"

"Sammy…"

"No! You could've died, Danny! You didn't even tell anyone that you were hurt!" Sam cried. "I thought you were going to die," he breathed out, a slight hitch to his voice.

"Oh, Sammy…I'm so sorry," Daniel said as he gently moved Sam's feet off his lap and scooted closer to his baby brother. He could tell that Sam was near tears and he felt guilt rise in him for making him feel that way. He wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him to his side.

"Why did you do it, Danny?" Sam asked.

"You were hurt, Sammy and all I could think about was seeing you hit that tree, but you were still able to shoot the wendigo. You saved me and I needed to save you and I was afraid that if Dad knew I was hurt, he wouldn't give you the attention that you needed," Daniel explained.

Sam pushed away from his brother and eyed him incredulously. "So, you think that I'm more important than you? That my injury was more worthy of Dad's attention?" Sam hissed. "Did you ever stop to think about how I would feel if something bad happened to you? How Dad and Dean would feel?"

"Sam, you're the youngest. We…"

"So what! So I'm the youngest…who cares! Does that make me worth more than you?"

"Sam…"

"No, Danny! You listen to me…I may be the youngest, but my life isn't worth any more than yours, or Dean's or Dad's! I need you…I need all of you…and the way you guys act sometimes, well, I…I just can't live without any of you so just stop being so…so…blind!" Sam sank back against the couch, exhausted from his outburst. He looked over when Daniel took grasped his forearm.

"I know I should have said something to Dad. I thought that it could wait…I really did. I promise you, Sammy…I will never hide an injury again, no matter what," Daniel said, his dark eyes pleading with his brother for forgiveness.

"And you know that you are worth just as much as me?" Sam asked, one eyebrow raised in question.

Daniel smiled as he nodded his head. "Yes, Sammy…I'm worth just as much as you," he said in reply.

Sam shook his head then and gently nudged his brother's shoulder. "You know…sometimes big brothers are stupid," he said as a wide grin spread over his face.

Daniel laughed out loud and drew his brother back to his side. "I know, kiddo…I know."

THE END!

That's it! I hope you liked the ending and will let me know either way. I do plan more stories (3 Brothers and regular SPN), just don't know when that will be. Ideas don't come as easily anymore. Anyway, please let me know what you think! Take care.

Cindy


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